


On Wings Like Angels

by the_original_n_chan



Series: The Priest's Son and the Demon [3]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Generic Fangirl Continuity, Gratuitous Biblical Recitation, M/M, Magical Mindfuck, Not Quite Rin/Shiemi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_original_n_chan/pseuds/the_original_n_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not pissed off. I’m all sunshine and flowers." Bon still has an issue to resolve. Meanwhile, things get slightly complicated for Rin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Wings Like Angels

**Author's Note:**

> See series page for continuity note and disclaimer.

Ryuuji had amazing powers of concentration. Everybody knew that; he’d proven it again and again, studying with single-pointed intensity to ace all his classes, reciting verses even when caught in the deadly grip of a ghoul, drawing out complicated plans while chanting sutras.

Now those powers were being tested to their limit.

And it was all Rin’s goddamned fault. Rin had gotten under his skin, and knew it, and was apparently determined to make his life a living hell. All through the first class Rin had been glancing at him from across the room, glances that gradually became more lingering as Rin gave up the effort to pay attention to the teacher’s background explanation on the prophets. And when he finally caught Ryuuji staring back at him, he smiled, slow, deliberate, and evil, with a flip of his tail that said, as clearly as words, _Guess what I’m thinking about._

Son of a bitch. So Ryuuji was currently leaning forward over his desk, hands cupped on either side of his face to shut off his peripheral vision as he stared half-seeing at the text before him. He should be taking notes, but he didn’t dare drop his hands lest his gaze be drawn back over there in spite of himself. He’d have to borrow Konekomaru’s later. He was relieved when the teacher finally finished her lecture and called upon him to recite the previous day’s assignment, a selection from Isaiah 40.

 

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.  
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her  
that her hard service has been completed,  
that her sin has been paid for,  
that she has received from the Lord’s hand  
double for all her sins.

 

His eyes closed, he let the words roll from him, the rhythm of the scripture’s poetry carrying him. It was a good chapter, with several clusters of important and powerful verses, useful against various intermediate-level demons. He had the whole thing cold; the teacher could have asked him to recite it all if she’d wanted. A mere eight verses was too easy.

 

A voice of one calling in the desert:  
Prepare the way for the Lord;  
make straight in the wilderness a highway for our God.  
Every valley shall be raised up,  
every mountain and hill made low;  
the rough ground shall become level,  
and the rugged places a plain.  
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,  
and all mankind together will see it.  
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

A voice says, “Cry out.”  
And I said, “What shall I cry?”

 

It was a mistake to open his eyes. Caught up in his recital, he’d forgotten to be cautious, and his gaze drifted across the front of the room. It found Rin, leaning way back in his chair, watching him. Rin’s pen was resting against his lips. And as his eyes met Ryuuji’s, they gleamed with sudden wickedness, and his tongue flicked out, just barely, curling around the pen’s cap.

Ryuuji stopped dead. Just for a heartbeat, a flash of _heat, sex, touch, taste,_ Rin’s tongue twining moistly with his own, swirling over his—he jerked back to the present, flushed with horror, and immediately froze up again.

Where was he in the recital?

The moments seemed to drag out to eternity as he stood there, his mind a complete blank. Everyone was staring at him, but he couldn’t seem to put his thoughts together. This never happened to him. He could feel himself on the verge of panicking and fought to calm down. At the front of the class, the teacher stirred. “Suguro-kun?”

“’What shall I cry?’” Shima hissed from behind him, and Ryuuji started, jolted from his paralysis.

“What shall I cry....”

 

All men are like grass,  
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.  
The grass withers and the flowers fall,  
because the breath of the Lord blows on them.  
Surely the people are grass.  
The grass withers and the flowers fall,  
but the word of our God stands forever.

 

Deathly silence greeted him as he finished. Even Kamiki had nothing smartass to say. The teacher murmured, “Er...that’s good,” saying nothing about Shima’s assistance, and Ryuuji dropped into his seat, sweating profusely. He put his head in his hands, shutting out the classroom and his shame. Inside him, though, a conflagration of rage had been ignited, and as the class dragged on it grew and grew.

 _Impossible._ He wasn’t going to stand for this.

The bell for the end of class had scarcely rung when he lunged up out of his seat and charged across the room. Grabbing Rin by the scruff of the neck, Ryuuji hauled him bodily out into the hall. Rin barely had a chance to squawk in protest before Ryuuji slammed his back into the wall and held him there, one hand fisted in his shirt.

“You listen to me,” Ryuuji said, right up in his face, voice low and taut. “I am deadly serious. You do not mess me up in class. Not ever. If you do it again, I’m gonna beat the crap out of you.” Clenching his other fist, he drew it back warningly. “Don’t make me prove that I’ll do it.”

“U-Umm....” They both turned at the tentative sound. Shiemi stood in the doorway, clutching at the frame as she eyed them nervously. “Is everything...okay?”

Rin’s laugh was weak and somewhat forced, though he clearly meant it to be reassuring. “Yeah, it’s fine. Bon here just had something he wanted to say to me.” Shiemi seemed not entirely convinced, probably due to the fact that Ryuuji was obviously poised to pound him. She made a valiant attempt to smile back anyway.

“Oh—okay! I just wondered because the two of you rushed out so quickly....”

“It’s none of your business,” Ryuuji grumbled, though he did lower his fist. He couldn’t really fault her for her concern, even if it was damned inconvenient. Now that Shiemi had finally gotten over her shyness enough that she considered the entire class her friends, she was heavily invested in trying to keep them all one big happy group. Not an easy task.

“We’ll be back in just a minute,” Rin assured her. She gazed at them for a moment more before she nodded and slipped back into the room. Ryuuji watched her go, wondering what would happen if she knew.

If any of them knew....

“Sorry.” That quiet word drew his attention back to Rin. Rin had turned his head and was staring off down the long hallway. “I shouldn’t’a done that. I was just having too much fun playing with you.”

“Playing?” Outrage made Ryuuji’s voice rise; he forced it down again. “You’ve got some messed-up idea of fun and games.” Another thought occurred to him, and he scowled. “Or are you really just trying to sabotage me so you can get ahead?”

Rin didn’t respond either to agree or to defend himself. Instead he looked distracted and vaguely sad. It took some of the wind out of Ryuuji’s sails; with a _tch_ of aggravation, he released Rin with a last little shove and stepped back. They stood there like that, neither one moving to go back to class. Something was still nagging at Ryuuji, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Hey,” he said at last. “What do you think about that girl?”

Rin looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Shiemi?” His gaze shifted over to where she had been standing, and he colored slightly. “I...like her.”

Ryuuji didn’t even know why he’d asked that, let alone why Rin’s answer made his stomach knot. He ought to just shut his mouth, but instead he found himself asking, “Why?”

“Why? Umm....” Rin seemed to give this serious thought, if only briefly. Then he turned back to Ryuuji with a foolish grin, one hand rubbing at the back of his head. “She’s really cute!”

God, Rin could be such an airhead. Ryuuji slumped, defeated. He was saved from any further indignity of having to deal with his idiot classmate by the sound of footsteps as Yunokawa-sensei arrived for their next class. “What’s going on here?” the teacher asked, not without a trace of anxiety in his voice. Ever since Rin’s secret had been uncovered, most of the instructors had been nervous around him, always waiting for him to go off the rails. Some of them hid it better than others.

“Nothing. Okumura-kun and I just had something to discuss. We’re done.” Ryuuji gave Rin a last warning stare and turned to head back to the classroom. He felt vaguely sick for some reason, and was annoyed by that and by the strange confusion that had him all wound up inside. What the hell did it matter if Rin liked Shiemi? He’d known it from day one, the way they were so familiar with each other, the way Rin always sat next to her in class, the way he watched her. So what? It had nothing to do with him. But the uneasiness remained.

It just bothered him, he realized suddenly, that he didn’t know where he stood. Had Rin been playing with him all along, just using him for cheap entertainment? Were they really friends at all, or something less, or something...more?

This...he didn’t even know what _this_ was, or what it meant, or even if there was a _this,_ but he felt a growing, sinking certainty.

There was no way that things were going to end well.

 

 

 

So was cleaning out the storage room more or less annoying than working on his training, Rin wondered. Hard to say, but at least he wasn’t failing miserably at this. It was mindless grunt work at the moment, mostly consisting of hauling boxes of books and papers and who knew what out to the better light of the classroom, where Yukio was overseeing the sorting. Probably the worst thing about it was that Yukio had made him wear a gauze mask just in case he ran into any other demon-reactive substances, which made him feel like a dork.

Well, he was almost done anyway—just one more stack of boxes against the back wall. He figured he could just take them all at once. Crouching down, he got a grip on them and heaved upward. Something went thunk behind them, and he pivoted carefully with his load, craning his neck to see what it was.

A small wooden box lay on the floor against the wall. It must have been tucked in behind the larger boxes; maybe it had fallen back there at some point. Rin wondered if it was important. Probably not, if it had been forgotten about for however many years it had been since the room had last seen regular use. There were markings on it that looked like magic seals, though. Setting down the boxes, Rin went over and knelt down to pick it up. Was it locked? As he touched the clasp, he felt a twinge, and it popped open with a little ping.

Oops. Was this like the demon-warding gate at Futsumaya? God, he hoped he hadn’t just broken something. Well, but it was open now anyway. Cautiously he lifted the lid and looked inside. There was only one thing in the box, and he...wasn’t quite sure what it was. Very gingerly he took it out to get a better look in the half light. It was a slender tube of some very thin, translucent material; it felt like extremely delicate paper, and as he held it up he saw a faint pattern on it, like scales.

A gust of wind whipped about him suddenly, blowing the dust around so that he had to squint his eyes. If he hadn’t been wearing the mask, he would’ve been coughing. The wind caught the thing in his hands, and as he watched in horror it shredded into flakes and blew away.

Oh shit. That wasn’t good, was it?

Wait. Why was a wind blowing in the storage room—

“Rin?” He turned to see Shiemi standing in the doorway. “Are you doing okay? I just went out and got us all some drinks.”

“Ah, yeah, good. I’ll be right there.” It could’ve been a cross draft from the hall, though he still felt uneasy about it. Still, nothing he could do about it right then. Scrambling to his feet, he shoved the empty box into the top carton, and then hefted the stack again. He could ask Yukio about it later, when he got a chance.

Shiemi was watching him, her eyes bright. “Wow! It always amazes me how strong you are.”

“Oh, heh. This is nothing.” Rin couldn’t help preening a little at the attention. Ah—Shiemi’s admiration. It was even better than sukiyaki.

 _What do you think about that girl?_ Bon’s words came back to him, and he frowned slightly. Of course he liked her—he’d been smitten from his very first glimpse of her, smudged with dirt and smiling in her beautiful sunlit garden. There was an air about her, something so innocent, so good. Maybe the attraction he felt for her was because they were such opposites. Even as a child, he’d been neither innocent nor good.

And for all his fevered imaginings, all his late-night bathroom fantasies—could he really see himself doing half the things he thought of doing with Shiemi? He couldn’t even bring himself to hint that he liked her, for crying out loud. He was afraid of hurting her, horrifying her, afraid of the pain of her rejection—and he already knew that she had a thing for Yukio, which put yet another crimp in things.

Damn it, he was the older brother, so why did Yukio keep getting ahead of him?

And now there was Bon...Bon, who had asked him what he felt for Shiemi, which meant...he didn’t know exactly what it meant. He didn’t know what he felt or what he wanted—except for the taste of Bon’s skin, the rough strength of Bon’s arms, the feel of Bon’s body rubbing up against his own, oh God, it felt like he could never get enough of that, and how the hell did that relate to his feelings for Shiemi? Why had he felt Bon’s anger and distress at being teased like a sinking weight in the pit of his stomach?

Aaah, this stuff was way too complicated....

“Rin?”

“Yep, coming.” Putting all those bothersome thoughts aside, Rin trailed Shiemi out into the hallway, peeking around the edge of the boxes to admire the sway of her hips, her short skirt swinging across the sweet curves of her ass.

Behind them, unseen, a small, snakelike shadow slithered from the storage room, vanishing as it followed them into the brighter light of the hall.

 

 

 

Ryuuji pushed open the door that let out behind the cram school building and paused, drawn up short by the sight of Rin leaning against the railing of the steps. Rin was staring up at the wedge of blue sky above the courtyard, his expression oddly pensive, his dust mask shoved down around his neck. He glanced over at Ryuuji, and Ryuuji looked away, his mouth tightening. “Hmph. Might’ve known I’d find you slacking off out here.”

“Who’s slacking? I just brought out all that recycling.” Rin pointed indignantly at the bins lined up along the back of the building, piled high with papers and broken-down cardboard boxes. Ryuuji refused to be impressed. Putting Rin on ignore, he clumped down the stairs with his own bag of trash.

“Hey, Bon.” Somehow Rin’s voice cut through his determination, drawing his attention back in spite of himself. “Why’d you ask me about Shiemi?”

Ryuuji hesitated, one hand on the lid of the dumpster, a sudden chill washing over him. “No reason.” Lifting the lid, he tossed in the bag and let the lid fall back with a thump.

“I just...I’m trying to figure stuff out.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Ryuuji muttered. He couldn’t stand here staring at a freaking dumpster all day. Steeling himself, he turned and started back toward the steps.

“Bon.” He was not going to look at Rin; he was going to go back to the classroom and finish helping Okumura-sensei and the others. As he reached the steps, though, Rin slid around the end of the railing and blocked his way, planting one hand against his chest. “ _Bon._ ”

In about ten seconds, he was going to revoke Rin’s right to call him that. “What?” he snapped. “So you like Moriyama-san. That’s not simple enough for you?”

“No, it’s not.” Rin’s gaze was searching his face intently; he glared back, trying to hide his senseless rising alarm. “Why’re you pissed off?”

“I’m not pissed off. I’m all sunshine and flowers. Now get out of my way.” Sweeping Rin’s arm aside, he went to push past, but Rin caught him again, thrust him up against the wall. Ryuuji tensed. “You—”

The words caught in his throat. Rin’s expression was so intense, and yet at the same time so bewildered, almost lost. He didn’t know why, but it made his stomach do a painful flip-flop, strangled his anger into a low, burning ache. With a start, Rin seemed to come back to himself—he lowered his gaze, licked his lips, nervous uncertainty rather than sensuality, but Ryuuji still couldn’t stop looking at his mouth.

“I guess I’m just...confused,” Rin said, half to himself. His arm, braced across Ryuuji’s chest, relaxed a little in his distraction. “I keep trying to think it through, and it doesn’t help. All I ever know how to do is to follow my heart, and my heart is....” He looked up again, and his eyes widened. “Bon?”

_I wanted ya. And I still want ya._

_S’guro...I like you!_

_I was high, yeah, but I knew what I was doing._

All those pieces, falling into place....

Rin’s startled gaze softened, his eyes going half lidded as he tilted his chin up, lips parting as Ryuuji lowered his head to capture them with his mouth. It was like and yet unlike all the kissing they’d done before—like melting into each other, strangely sweet. Ryuuji raised one hand, cupping it against Rin’s face, and Rin leaned his head into that touch.

The door at the top of the steps opened. Ryuuji jerked back, feeling as dazed and disoriented as Rin looked. Numb with horror, he turned his head. Shiemi stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to her mouth, her green eyes huge with shock. She let out a panic-stricken squeak, whirled, and dashed back into the building, letting the door fall shut behind her.

“ _Shiemi!_ ” Rin lunged after her. Ryuuji’s hand shot out as if of its own accord and caught him by the arm, jerking him up short. Turning, he stared back at Ryuuji, his expression desperate and conflicted; then his face twisted as if in pain, and he pulled away. He bolted up the steps and slammed through the door. _“Shiemi!_ ” His running footsteps grew muffled as the door thunked shut.

Ryuuji found himself staring at his still-outstretched hand as if it were a stranger’s. Abruptly he clenched it into a fist.

 _That...that_ idiot!

 

 

 

“ _Shiemi!_ ” Oh God, how had he let it happen? He’d been so freaking careless, caught up in the moment—in that kiss, so startlingly...how could he even describe it? Gentle? Tender? Shiveringly, toe-curlingly amazing?

_Bon...._

No—God damn it, he couldn’t be thinking about that right now! He had damage control to manage. He pounded down the short corridor, whipped around a corner, and almost ran Shiemi down. She was leaning up against the wall, both hands over her face. “S-Shiemi!” he blurted. “I can explain—”

“O-Oh! R-Rin!” Her hands fluttered apart in her surprise—she was extremely pink. “I-I’m so sorry!”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“Oh, but I’m so silly, right? S-So naive.” Her blush deepened even further. “I didn’t even know that boys could...could be....”

“N-No! It’s not like that. It’s...it’s....” Like what? _Shit._

“But I’m so happy for you!”

_...what?_

Shiemi was smiling suddenly, her gaze still shyly downcast. “I’m really happy that you’ve found someone special.” Her fingers twined with each other, tightened briefly as she added, “I hope...I hope there’ll be somebody like that for me too, someday.”

_Someone special?_

_Shiemi...you...._

But there was someone in her thoughts already—he knew it, by the all-too-familiar glimmer of longing and hope in that smile, the momentary far-away look. And with a growing, leaden certainty, he knew that it wasn’t him.

“It’s...Yukio, isn’t it.”

Her smile faltered for a moment in embarrassment, then she nodded, a short, emphatic jerk of her head.

That guy.... Frustrated, Rin gazed at Shiemi, feeling his own barely formed hopes crumbling like sand in the face of her happy obliviousness. He could fight for this, he realized, put himself out there and try to win her away from his brother. Yukio was so clueless anyway, he probably wouldn’t even be trying to score her affections. If he really put his all into it, maybe he still had a shot.

But....

It was like the sun slowly coming out from behind clouds. Suddenly everything became very simple. Not without pain, the sharp, stinging cuts of loss, but...simple. He liked simple. He could feel the tension that had been pulling at him start to ease. Reaching out, he caught Shiemi and drew her toward himself, touched his lips to her forehead as she flinched and gasped in surprise. Her little familiar, swinging from her hair as always, peeped indignantly. At last, with only the faintest twinge of regret, he let her go.

“Go for it,” he said, grinning broadly, and not for her sake alone. “And maybe someday I’ll be able to call you ‘Sis.’”

After an instant of startlement, her answering laugh lit up her whole face. “Yeah! I hope so too!”

_First kiss. Take that, you four-eyed rat bastard._

But the tiny triumph was the least part of what he felt. Relief, affection, the genuine wish for her happiness—and for Yukio’s too, of course, far above and beyond any sense of sibling rivalry. The wide realm of possibility opening out before him, exhilarating and freeing. And _Bon, Bon, Bon,_ the thought pulsing in his mind like the beating of his heart, just one thought now, straightforward and uncomplicated— _I want you, I want you to kiss me again like that, I want to know what this is that I’m feeling, Bon, show me, ‘cause I know that you feel_ _something too...._ With a jolt he came back to the moment and to one last bit of unfinished business.

“Oh, um. About what happened back there.” Awkwardly he scratched at his head, smiling sheepishly. “It’s still kind of a secret. So don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t,” she assured him. She paused, then added tentatively, “Rin...thank you.”

“Huh?”

She laid one hand on his arm, looking up at him earnestly, the words pouring out of her in an unexpected flood. “It...it makes me happy to know what’s going on in your life. You and Yuki-chan...I feel closer to you both. I was so crushed when I found out that the two of you had been hiding the truth about you for all that time—like I’d been shut out, and you’d been carrying that burden, and I hadn’t been a part of it at all, so I couldn’t help you. So if you need somebody to talk to, you have to come to me! Okay?”

He could love her like this, he realized, just like this, for her beauty and her bossy concern and the uncomplicated goodness of her heart, with no need for anything more. He smiled back at her, relaxing. “Yeah. Okay. Uh—” He stiffened as he remembered once more and urgency reasserted itself. Taking a step back, he waved his hand in the general direction of back down the corridor. “I gotta go and, um—”

“Go on.” She beamed at him, suddenly impish. “Go for it!”

“Ha!” He grinned, then turned and pelted back the way he’d come, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Shadow coiled in shadow, forked tongue flickering in the air, watching, tasting, waiting.

 

 

 

Yukio looked up from the yellowing sheaf of old teachers’ records as thunderous footsteps drew near. Rin slid into the doorway of the classroom, catching himself on the frame, and glanced around wildly. “Is Bon here?”

“Suguro-kun?” That was right, Suguro hadn’t come back yet from taking out the trash. “He’s out back.”

“He’s not there. _Shit!_ ” Rin turned to stare down the hall, then galloped off.

“Nii...san.” Too late—he was already gone. Yukio frowned. It was unusual for Suguro to have disappeared like that; he was always so reliable. And Rin looked likely to run all over creation trying to find him. What a pain. Setting down the papers, Yukio got to his feet. This constant surveillance was truly a nuisance.

As he turned to tell the other students that they could quit for the day, a glint of silver in one of the cartons caught his eye. He reached in and pulled out a small wooden box inlaid with magical seals. The box was unlocked and empty. Kamiki, working nearby, glanced over and eyed it with some interest. “Those look like containment seals,” she remarked.

“Yes, they are.” They were intermediate-level seals. And whatever they had contained was gone. Yukio cleared his throat, and the rest of the esquires looked up. “Everyone, we may have something loose in the building. We’ll have to do a sweep to see if we can find it. Kamiki-san, please call up your familiars to help us search.” As she nodded and pulled out her magic circles, Yukio stepped aside to key a quick text message.

_Situation in the cram school. You need to track R. Get on it now._

Shura had better not be sleeping, he thought with an inner growl.

 

 

 

Sitting on the front steps of the academy, Ryuuji stared moodily at the text message on his phone.

_Meet me at the place we went that time._

Could that asshole be any more cryptic?

He was pretty sure he knew where Rin meant, though. And he wasn’t going to go. He had his pride, goddamn it, and he’d already made enough of a fool of himself, and for what? So Rin could go running off after his girlfriend at a moment’s notice? That was bullshit.

He hated to feel like a fool.

This hurt worse than being laughed at, worse than his family being shunned for no reason but stupid people’s fears. Because he really had been an idiot, laying himself wide open for just that one instant, believing in what he’d thought he’d heard, thinking that there might be something more than what there really was. With _Rin,_ for crying out loud. And he was supposed to be so damned smart.

_And my heart is...._

Fuck Rin’s flighty, screwed-up, demon’s heart. Rin wanted Shiemi. Fine. Good for them. He didn’t need this crap. He didn’t need those confusing, traitorous feelings messing him up, getting in the way of realizing his one ambition.

In the end, the only thing he had in this world was his pride.

His pride and...and his friends.

“Aw... _shit._ ”

Ryuuji blew out a sigh of angry resignation. All right, fine. He’d go. He owed Rin that much, after all that they’d been through together. At the very least, he was going to tell Rin that everything was over in person, face to face, and quite possibly kick his ass into the bargain, the two-timing little shit.

Anyhow, he certainly didn’t want Rin to think that he was _scared_.

 

 

 

Bon was taking a really long time to get there. Rin stared gloomily at his phone, which was stubbornly refusing to show any new messages, then shut it off and shoved it back into his pocket. He kicked idly at the gravel surrounding the stone bench.

What was he going to do if Bon didn’t come?

Bon had to come. And if he didn’t, well, they’d be in class together tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and sometime he was going to have to be able to get Bon alone. Bon couldn’t avoid him forever, and there was no way in hell that Bon was going to leave the school, giving up his exorcist training and his best shot at his ambition. Sooner or later, he’d get a chance to...he wasn’t sure what. Explain? Apologize? Kiss the ever-loving shit out of him? He’d just have to wing it, he supposed.

But he’d better wait here a while longer. Bon would be supremely pissed off if he arrived and Rin had already gone.

_Hurry up, Bon._

The sound of quiet footsteps snatched his attention to the stairs that led to the garden, and his pulse jumped. It jumped again, for an entirely different reason, when a small figure dressed in pink and white stepped out of the passageway. “S-Shiemi!” Oh man, this was really awkward. Because if Bon came now....

“Rin.”

Why had he never noticed that her voice had the sound of small bells chiming, high, musical, and sweet? She walked toward him over the close-cropped grass, her body swaying slightly with each step.

_The sway of her hips, her short skirt swinging as she walked down the hall ahead of him. She turned to look back over her shoulder and smiled._

He found himself standing to meet her. She was wearing something like a shawl over her uniform; it glittered faintly in the fading afternoon light, somehow flattering her body despite its drape. She was smiling, her gaze lowered so that her bangs swept over her half-lidded eyes, the pale rose curve of her mouth seeming to hint at some secret she had come to share. His breath caught.

_Reaching out, he caught her and drew her toward himself, touched his lips lingeringly to hers, then more firmly, pulling her up against his body, the swell of her chest against his as she melted into him._

_Wait...._

She stepped over the low hedge, her skirt riding up on her thigh. The large bow of her school uniform tie was missing, leaving her shirt open at her throat. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the exposed creamy skin that faded into shadow in the deep cleft between her breasts.

And the memories assailed him....

_Sunlight dazzled on the water and the blue clouds of hydrangeas. Laughing, Shiemi pulled him down. On their knees in the grass, they kissed and kissed, with a soaring passion that dizzied him. Not enough—still not enough. He tumbled her to the ground, rolled her half over so that she lay beneath him, her blond hair spread against the green. She was all roundness, all softness, her spread thighs, her breasts spilling out of her opened shirt, the arch of her neck as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Her bra strap was sliding off her shoulder; he pulled it down, pulled the cup down and bent his head to tongue the peak of her nipple. She drew her legs up slightly, her skirt sliding to reveal her underwear—he touched the thin cloth, taut and damp between her legs, eased it aside to slip his fingers underneath it, into those mysterious, welcoming, so yielding depths—_

_Wait...this isn’t...how it...._

_—those depths that he explored now, sliding his fingers deep, thrusting into her while she writhed and cried out, Rin, Rin! And he was hard, so hard, only for her, leaning forward to crush her mouth beneath his, to taste all her sweetness as he pulled her panties down, sinking into the need that burned like fire, devouring all thoughts but one._

_Shiemi...!_

Shiemi halted before him, her shadow stretching long across the grass. Reaching out, she laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. Still smiling, she tilted her face up toward his, drawing even closer, her shawl rustling faintly as she moved.

“Rin....”

 

 

 

Ryuuji walked heavily down the steps to the chapel garden. He was really not looking forward to this. For the umpteenth time, he wondered why he had gotten all tangled up with Rin in the first place. The whole thing was a mess, and Rin was probably going to be an impossible moron about it all, and they’d be lucky if Ryuuji didn’t end up punching him in the face.

Actually, punching Rin in the face was sounding kind of good....

He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped dead. The last glint of sun was vanishing behind the western wall of the garden. In the midst of the knot garden, Rin and Shiemi stood, dark head close to blond, the space between them narrowing further as Rin bent slowly forward, his lips parting. About to kiss.

About to kiss...Shiemi.

Ryuuji’s annoyance burst into  incandescent fury. If he’d had Satan’s power, he would’ve erupted into flames on the spot. _The son of a bitch!_ Calling him here just to see this, fucking rub it in his face—holy shit, he was going to kill the bastard, _murder_ him, beat him to death with his bare hands. But not now, not right now, right now he couldn’t even breathe against the rage and pain that clamped his chest. Why did it hurt so damn much? Clenching his teeth, he took a step backward, fingernails digging into his palms as he stared at those two. _Satan’s spawn, you miserable fuck, you brought her_ here....

In Shiemi’s shadow, an unexpected movement caught his eye, something stirring, dark as smoke—the ghost of a serpentine tail, slowly lengthening, coiling.

Ryuuji’s eyes widened.

 

 

 

“ _Okumura! Look out!_ ”

The shout brought him back from...it felt like a dream. So deep, so hard to come back to the surface. With an effort, he blinked his eyes. It felt like he was moving in syrup, the world around him distant, slow, unreal.

“ _Okumura!_ ”

_Bon...._

_Sunlight on the hydrangeas. The two of them sprawled together, entwined—Bon above him, Bon and the blue sky, the smell of grass, the heat of the summer day, that weight pressing down on him, rocking his body against the ground, fiercer, harder._

Bon.

And this place....

The memory opened up wide for him, how it had been, what he had felt, and then a flicker of realization, pulling him closer to waking. It was real, it had really happened like that. Then.... Slowly he raised his head. Shiemi was tilting her face up to him, her eyes hazy and dark in the early twilight, her still-smiling lips parted, waiting for him.

_I’m really happy that you’ve found someone special._

Reeling, still muddled and dizzy, he took a step back.

“You’re...not Shiemi.”

Her smile grew. And grew. It split her face—her face that was pushing outward, lengthening and broadening into a massive wedge-shaped head. Her neck and body stretched, becoming a thick, muscular column as she reared up above him, clothes shredding except for the shawl, which became a glittering tracery of scales flowing across her darkening body. Inhuman gold eyes snapped open, the pupils black bars, the eyelids scrolling up and disappearing, and her jaw gaped nightmarishly wide before she struck, enormous curved fangs dripping.

 

 

 

“ _Okumura!_ ” The yell tore itself out of him. Somehow Rin threw himself backward, got his sword swung around and raised in time to meet those descending jaws. The force of the strike slammed him onto his back the ground, the still-sheathed blade braced against the roof of the snake-demon’s mouth, barely holding the fangs at bay. A couple of drops fell from them; Rin’s shirt smoked where the glistening liquid struck. The demon reached to grapple him—it still had arms and the breasts of a woman—and in an instant Rin was wreathed in flames. The monster jerked backward, hissing, as Rin staggered to his feet and drew Kurikara, assuming his own demonic form.

But something was wrong. Rin’s movements were sluggish and uncoordinated as he stepped forward to swing at the demon, missing it hopelessly. After the first bright flare, his flames seemed dull, almost wispy. And the demon was still growing, its body expanding into heavy, writhing coils.

He was still in its spell. It was feeding on him, Ryuuji realized.

And what it could become, with Rin’s power....

What the hell was it? Not a succubus. A lamia? He didn’t know the death verse for it. He was completely unarmed, without even Shima’s staff or so much as a paper talisman. But he found himself running forward anyway. “Hey, _bitch!_ ” he shouted, waving his arm. “Over here!”

“ _Interfering human!_ ”

He didn’t see the tail coming around until it was too late. A blur at the edge of sight. Something like a tree trunk cracking into his side, as quick as a whip. Splintering pain. He couldn’t breathe. It swept him off his feet, threw him hurtling through the air, a long way—to smash into—something hard—

Rin’s scream—

“ _BON!”_

—and a supernova of blue light before everything went to black—

 

 

“Bon.... _Bon!_ ”

Oh God, he hurt. He hurt so much. The snake-demon—where—? With a moan he pushed at the ground, levered himself to his feet with agonizing slowness, someone’s hand under his elbow helping him to rise. He leaned against the wall behind him as his legs threatened to buckle, as the world went gray and misty for a moment before it reluctantly swam back to normal—to almost normal, lit with flickering blue.

 _Rin._ Rin was gripping his arm, bracing him. Kurikara was sheathed; Rin was human but still aflame. His eyes were wild, stricken.

“Bon...oh God....”

There was no sign of the demon. Rin must have killed it; he dimly remembered the eruption of overwhelming power. Good, then he didn’t have to worry about it anymore. It was all he could do to stay upright, to force air past the raking pain in his chest.

Maybe he should lie down again, before he fell down.

“I saw it hit you...and slam you into the wall.” Rin’s voice shook. Suddenly he dropped the sword and lunged forward, pressing himself against Ryuuji, pinning him to the stones in a desperate embrace. “Shit, I thought you were dead!”

He still might die if Rin crushed him any tighter. On the other hand, at least it was keeping him from falling on his face. He spared a moment to marvel that Rin’s fire didn’t seem to burn him—it was just very warm, almost soothing. Rin had his face buried in Ryuuji’s shoulder; he was breathing in deep, heaving gasps, as though he was the one who couldn’t get enough air. Something grated against the wall next to Ryuuji’s head, and he glanced aside to see Rin’s claws slowly scraping along the stones.

Claws....

Rin didn’t have claws, even in his demon form.

Except for that one time, when he had lost control....

Startled, Ryuuji stared down at the top of Rin’s head, the twin flames burning there, the elongated ears, at Rin’s shoulders straining as if against some inner pressure. Even his tail looked longer, plumed with fire, drawing blinding afterimages across the twilight as it whipped back and forth. Blinking, Ryuuji looked at the ground and saw the demon sword lying at their feet, still sheathed.

_Kurikara can’t contain him?!_

Rin jerked his head up suddenly and dragged Ryuuji down, clamping his mouth on Ryuuji’s in a desperate kiss as those flames burst upward all around them, surging higher and higher, closing out the world like falling into deep water, but bright, so unbelievably bright. Ryuuji shut his eyes but he could still see the blue, blazing through his closed eyelids. Rin’s mouth was hot on his; Rin’s tongue seemed to fill his mouth, insistent and fiercely urgent, as if trying to possess him. He could feel Rin’s claws snag in the fabric of his pants as Rin’s hand slid down his thigh. His heart was pounding, but he was in a place beyond terror, beyond even the pain—he was holding an elemental creature in his arms, pure, raw power burning against his skin, like standing too close to a furnace, an awesome force that consumed all thought, all feeling, so there was only the searing moment. Rin shuddered violently, and his body almost seemed to ripple beneath Ryuuji’s hands, as though something was trying to reshape his human flesh, before he drew back with a gasp.

Ryuuji opened his eyes. Rin was staring at his own hand, lifted toward Ryuuji’s face, at his spread fingers and those sharp, black claws. His jaw dropped in shock, and his gaze shifted to meet Ryuuji’s, his horrified expression at odds with his mouthful of viciously pointed teeth. Ryuuji looked into his eyes—those hellfire eyes, the pupils tinged with red, the glowing irises seeming to shift and change shape as if they too were made of Satan’s flames. They widened, then closed as Rin threw his head back, biting at his lip until the blood came.

“Okumura.” Somehow Ryuuji found his voice, managed to grit out the words. “ _Come back._ ” The pain had returned full force; he fought its pull with all his willpower as he watched Rin struggle to control his inner monster. Rin convulsed, his body arching, then went limp, falling against Ryuuji—his strength was gone, he couldn’t hold Rin up, and they both collapsed to the ground, Rin sprawling onto his back, Ryuuji on hands and knees above him, panting. He stared down at Rin, watching the claws retract, Rin’s ears shrinking back to their usual points, the lines of Rin’s face softening in his unconsciousness, becoming more human. The flames subsided, and darkness began creeping in around the edges of Ryuuji’s vision. He was barely aware of running footsteps approaching, of Shura sliding in next to him.

“Shit! He lost control again?”

“No.” His voice felt thick, congested; his breath wouldn’t come. He coughed, coughed again, raising his hand, and when he lowered it he saw the red stain of blood across his palm.

_Oh...not good._

The agony and the memory of fire...too much. He was crumpling, falling forward to lie across Rin’s body, only dimly conscious of Shura shouting his name as the world faded out, to be replaced by blackness.

 

 

 

Rin swallowed nervously, trying to work up his courage to walk through the door into Bon’s hospital room. He’d lurked until all the others had been and gone; he couldn’t do this in front of them, not in front of anyone. But the waiting had made things that much harder. The memories chased each other inside his brain until he wanted to scream at them to just leave him alone; the question of what he wanted to say became more and more unanswerable. What the hell _could_ he say? Once again Bon had seen him at his most awful, as the monster he really was, and that could never, ever be taken back. He could’ve killed Bon without even meaning to—the thought made him sick to his stomach—he could’ve lost control completely, crossing into that place from which there was no returning, and all because he’d been so, so scared. So terrified and filled with rage. Even remembering, he felt the hot fury, the savage whisper that wanted to bring that demon back so he could kill her again and again and again—

No. Focus. _Normal._ He had to keep this light, keep this sane. For Bon’s sake, for his sake, because what was between them, whatever it was, was already strained to the limit, and he didn’t want it to end like this. Not like this.

Idiot—as if someone like Bon would ever want to be with a demon.

_But I’m not...._

Shit. He could slink away like a guilty coward, or he could go into that room. Slinking was sounding kind of attractive, but he swallowed again, took a deep breath, and moved forward, easing through the doorway. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Bon lying in the bed, propped up on a heap of pillows. Bon’s gaze shifted toward him, flickered with recognition, then went guarded.

“Uh, hey.” Rin sidled over to the dresser and set the vase of hydrangeas next to the other flowers, trying to be casual about it, like it was nothing important. “How you doing?” Bon looked away with a grunt that could’ve meant anything from _Fine_ to _I feel like shit, thanks for asking._ Rin groped for something breezy to say, some stupid, random conversation, but his mind was drawing a complete blank. The silence dragged out, growing heavier and heavier, like a baryon.

“I’m sorry.” The words spilled from him abruptly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Forget it.” Bon’s answer was low and toneless. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Anymore? Rin took a couple of steps forward, then stopped when Bon tensed, Bon’s hands closing into fists on top of the sheets. “Bon, I—”

“Didn’t I say forget it? Are you deaf as well as stupid?” A brief spark of anger, and then Bon’s voice went dull again. “You made your own bed. You can goddamned well lie in it.”

Rin hesitated, trying to untangle that. What exactly he’d done...but then, it was all his fault, wasn’t it? From the moment he’d bolted after Shiemi, everything had just gotten worse and worse. Pathetic, but he held out the one thing he could offer, hoping that it could somehow make things right, or at least better. “Bon, back then, before that demon messed me up, I’d already decided.” He exhaled shakily, gathering himself. “I’d chosen you.”

A moment’s pause. Then: “Too bad.”

What?

Bon turned his head against the pillow, closing his eyes. “It’s over. I’m done.”

Oh God, he hated the flatness, the lack of emotion— _be mad at me, Bon, yell and shout, hit me, I don’t care, but not this. Not this._ It was all wrong, not like Bon at all. He drew breath, but Bon cut him off before he could speak, as though he’d known that Rin was about to say something.

“I’m tired.”

The quiet words struck like a blow; Rin stepped backward, ducking his head. He faltered, tried to laugh the moment off, but his voice cracked, betraying him. “Uh, yeah. Okay. I...yeah.” Another step, and another, retreating toward the door. “T-Then I’ll see you later, okay?” He turned—he was not going to run, he was not going to run, he was not going to run, not until he was out of the room, past the nurses’ station down the hall, only then, his strides coming faster and faster until he hit the swinging doors at the end all out, slamming them open, barely noticing the dark-coated figure who called after him as he passed.

 

 

 

“Ah, Suguro-kun. How are you feeling?”

Ryuuji started, jolted out of his brooding thoughts, and tried to push himself upright. “Sensei—”

Smiling, Okumura-sensei waved him to lie back. “It’s all right, don’t sit up. You’re feeling a little better, I take it?”

“Yeah.” For a definition of better that included not coughing blood out of his lungs. He hated talking to people while flat on his back, though.

There was a moment of not-quite-awkward silence as Okumura-sensei’s gaze swept the room, taking in the several sets of flowers, the pile of magazines and manga—with Shima’s highly inappropriate contributions buried at the bottom, thank God—before returning to study Ryuuji. With no change to his smile or the mildness of his tone, he said, “You lied to Shura-san, didn’t you.”

Ryuuji’s eyes widened before he could catch himself. Okumura-sensei’s gaze held his levelly as he added, “She was close enough to see the end of it.”

Crap. And there was no way he could explain himself. He hadn’t even thought about it for a second at the time—it had been pure instinct, denying the truth that could get Rin killed. Flustered, he looked away. He heard Okumura-sensei sigh faintly and then cross the room, his steps quiet and measured.

“She doesn’t intend to pass the word up. The condition was that if Rin went out of control again he’d be executed, but he regained control quickly, as you know, and of his own will. It’s a sort of progress, I suppose.” His footsteps stopped, somewhere over by the dresser. “Since as far as we know nobody else saw anything, we’re going to try to go on as if nothing happened, and hope for the best.”

“Fine.” Ryuuji’s chest felt tight, and not just from the bandages. “Whatever.”

“Aren’t you relieved?” Okumura-sensei asked. His voice was light, but Ryuuji could read something probing behind that seeming casualness. “I thought you were friends.”

How could they go back to the friendship they’d had? And what business was it of Okumura-sensei’s anyway, even if he and Rin were brothers? Ryuuji stole a look at the teacher from the corner of his eye. Okumura-sensei was studying the flowers; he reached out and turned the vase of hydrangeas slightly, bringing it into line with the rest.

“Well, at least he managed not to totally wreck the chapel garden,” he murmured.

The bottom dropped out of Ryuuji’s world, an inner crash that shook him to the core. _He knew?_ About the garden and...impossible. But it couldn’t be mere coincidence, could it? The gesture was too deliberate, too calculated. And if Shura had seen the end of things—just how much had she seen?

Oh no, no, no...and why the hell had Rin decided to bring him _those_ flowers?

_Rin, you stupid, stupid shit...._

...no.

No, _he_ was the stupid one, dumber than Rin, dumber than a box of unusually stupid rocks. Rin was dangerous. Rin was under surveillance. Oh God, of course. Ryuuji’s face burned helplessly. He’d be lucky if the entire freaking Vatican didn’t know.

Numb, he let whole minutes drag out while Okumura-sensei simply stood there, waiting. At last he found his voice and wrenched the words out. “I can’t do this anymore.” The silence seemed to call for more, but how could he explain it? “There was a moment when he could’ve burned the world, and I wouldn’t have cared.” Ryuuji drew a breath, shaking and sick, but suddenly, fiercely determined. “I absolutely can’t accept that!”

There was a little pause, and then Okumura-sensei sighed again, the soft sound seeming weary, weighted down with emotion. “I love my brother,” he  said quietly. “Sometimes I hate him, too. He’s the reason for...so many things.” Drawn by the complex pain in his voice, Ryuuji risked a look over and saw him gazing somberly at the flowers. “I swore to protect him, but I know that if he ever loses himself, I’ll have to do everything in my power to kill him.” Turning, he pushed up his glasses and then met Ryuuji’s eyes, his expression deadly serious. “If you can’t walk that line, then it’s better not to get involved.”

There was nothing really surprising in what Okumura-sensei had said. He had known himself that Rin was a disaster waiting to happen, that there was no good ending to any of this, not with the demon always waiting behind Rin’s ready smile and boundless enthusiasm. Then why did he suddenly want to reject that truth, to shout _no!—_ wanted it so much that it hurt? He stared bitterly up at the ceiling as Okumura-sensei’s footsteps moved away.

“But if you can,” and his gaze was drawn unwillingly as Okumura-sensei paused at the door, not looking back, a strangely remote, lone figure in his black exorcist’s coat. “If you can...he needs people who can.” Without another word, Okumura-sensei walked out.

Ryuuji rolled his head back against the pillows. No, he couldn’t. He really couldn’t. Not without betraying everything he was fighting for. And he’d already fallen much too far. The possibility of another Blue Night, of a devastation like the one that had taken Konekomaru’s parents, Shima’s grandfather and brother, and his own grandfather, and the thought that he might let something like that happen, in a moment’s weakness....

When had he gotten so pathetic?

_I’d chosen you._

Ryuuji let his breath out slowly, shaken all over again by the memory. _No...._

Could he ever be as strong as Okumura-sensei?

He’d closed his eyes against the pain and shame. Now he opened them again. The ceiling was as blank as before, but it wasn’t what he was looking at. Not really.

_I refuse...._

_I_ refuse _to be weak._

His fists tightened once more. It felt like he was burning, something hot and angry rising up inside him, rising fast.

_I won’t give up._

_I won’t lose._

_I absolutely will not lose!_

He threw the covers off and hauled himself up, had to sit for a moment at the edge of the bed, his head reeling and his injured ribs aching, before he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the dresser.

 _Son of a bitch...I will_ not _lose!_

Ryuuji had to pause for breath, hands braced on his knees, after climbing all those stairs. After a moment, he straightened. Next to him, at the end of the long, high walkway that was like a bridge to nowhere, stood what he supposed was a watch post, rising up against the night sky, part of the academy’s bizarre, labyrinthine architecture. Rin was sitting up on the roof of it, staring down at him.

“Oi.”

“Y-You! What’re you doing here?” Rin sounded incredulous, and mad, and maybe something other than mad. This was promising.

“They let me out.” Technically he’d checked himself out. “Hnn.” Ryuuji looked dubiously at the watch post. The edge of the roof was higher than he could reach. He took a couple of steps back, then ran forward and leaped. His hands caught the ledge, and then all his weight was hanging from his arms, jerking at his chest. “Aggh!”

“ _Idiot!_ ” As Ryuuji struggled to haul himself up with that pain ripping at him and his muscles gone suddenly weak, Rin was there, grabbing him and lifting him up. The ledge was about a half meter wide; from it, the shingled roof rose up in a steep peak to the slim cross at the top. Catching his balance, one hand braced on the roof, Ryuuji stared down the long, long drop to the ground.

_Whoa...._

“What the hell!” Rin stormed. He stepped backward, putting more space between himself and Ryuuji. “How did you even _find_ me here?”

“Got my ways.” He certainly wasn’t about to tell Rin that he’d texted Okumura-sensei to find out where the half-demon was likely to be lurking. Instead he looked past Rin at the academy campus spilling down the steep slope, and then the town pooled around its feet, all the streets like illuminated rivers, all the buildings starred with lights. “Haa. Some view.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Just get the fuck away from me—leave me alone!” Rin’s teeth were bared; his eyes were blazing. His body almost seemed to vibrate, as if he was fighting with all his strength the urge to shove Ryuuji away, or to transform. Rippling flames were already licking about him. “That’s what you wanted to do, right? Then fine, do it, fucking stay away, that’s the best thing you could ever do!” His voice choked; he drew back his clenched fist threateningly. “Over means over, goddamn it! _Don’t mess with me!_ ”

Ah, right. A wounded animal was always the most dangerous.

The hot intensity that had driven Ryuuji across campus from the hospital had faded. Instead he felt strangely calm, strangely sure. Maybe it was because Rin looked so crazy, wild with fury and hurt. Ryuuji glanced down at the ground again, then closed his eyes. Relaxing, he let his body sway outward, his center of balance crossing the edge as he toppled with a peculiar slowness, nothing but a whole lot of empty air between himself and the ground—

“ _BON!_ ”

Something grabbed his wrist, yanking him up short. _Ow._ Clenching his teeth, he opened his eyes. Though his feet were still on the lip of the roof, he was leaning way back, out over the drop; the only thing holding him from that fall was Rin’s iron grip on his arm. Rin had actually punched his other hand _into_ the roof to keep from being dragged off after Ryuuji. He hadn’t thought of that, really hadn’t thought this through at all, to be honest; he was glad it had at least occurred to Rin. He stared at Rin’s face, Rin’s stunned expression, and then smiled tightly, feeling some of his own fierceness return.

“I believe in you,” he told Rin, and watched that shock slowly splinter, releasing the emotions, a trickle of astonishment first, and then something more. So much more.

_You won’t let me fall._

_I won’t let you fall either._

Rin pulled him back up, flames extinguishing, and Ryuuji endured the by now all-too-familiar pain. He wondered if he was ever going to heal up from this. Somehow Rin got them turned around so that Ryuuji was lying back against the roof with Rin straddling him, as though to block him bodily from danger. Hands planted on either side of Ryuuji, Rin lowered his head. “Stupid,” he whispered, his voice catching. “So freaking _stupid._ ”

“Who’re you calling stupid?” Maybe the pain meds had made him loopy, or the adrenaline still singing in his head, or maybe he was just out of his goddamned mind. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. At this lunatic, senseless happiness. “Anyway, can’t a man change his mind around here?”

Rin’s hands crept inward to Ryuuji’s chest, his fingers twisting in Ryuuji’s shirt. “ _Why_?”

“Because....” A little hesitant now, Ryuuji reached up to touch Rin’s shoulder, then slid his hand down to cup Rin’s arm, just above the elbow. “Because...I think that in all of history, from the beginning of the world...Satan has made just one good thing.” Rin looked up, and Ryuuji started at the glimmering in his eyes, the feelings about to spill over. “Hey. Don’t embarrass me.” Rin laughed breathlessly, then leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Ryuuji’s shoulder. Ryuuji thought he felt a drop of two of damp warmth soaking into his shirt.

Tilting his head, he gazed up at the sky, the waxing moon riding at midheaven. It was good—it was all good, he decided. Not easy, never easy, especially with a hot mess like Rin to deal with, but then he didn’t ask for easy. Just a shot at the greatest evil ever to exist. Just a passion that could match his own. Curving his arm around Rin’s waist, he pulled the other closer. Up here, with just the sky and the summer breeze that whispered around them, it felt like there were no limits to what they could dream or do. Like they were being held for just a moment at the center of infinity’s palm.

 

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand,  
or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens?  
Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket,  
or weighed the mountains on the scales  
and the hills in a balance?

 

The lines from Isaiah played through his head, snatches spinning out at random. A slight smile tugged at his mouth.

 

“To whom will you compare me?  
Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One.  
Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:  
Who created all these?  
He who brings out the starry host one by one  
and calls forth each of them by name.  
Because of his great power and mighty strength,  
not one of them is missing.

 

All but the brightest stars were hidden by the moon and the lights of the town, but he knew that they were there.

_Somehow...this is where I want to be. Where I need to be._

_No matter what, Satan won’t win._

Rin stirred then, pushing himself up on his arms once more. Frowning, he muttered, “How the hell are we going to get you down from here?”

Ryuuji’s brows drew together. “I can get myself down.” Rin snorted in derision.

“Are you nuts? You’re barely on your feet.” The only reason he wasn’t on his feet just then was because Rin had him pinned to the roof. He was injured, not an invalid. Ryuuji scowled.

“I can jump down to the walkway. Down is easier than up.” It was only three fricking meters or so.

“The hell. You’re not jumping anywhere.” Rin looked around as if searching for inspiration. “Could lift you down...no, it still might hurt your ribs.”

“Oh, for God’s sake—”

“Ah! I got it!” Rin snapped his fingers, his expression lighting up with triumph and delight. “I’ll be right back! Stay there.” He jabbed his finger at Ryuuji suddenly, going all feral up in his face, with sharp fangs and glaring eyes. “ _Don’t. Move._ ” With that, Rin bounded away, leaped off the roof, and disappeared from view.

Ryuuji glowered futilely after him. He had a good mind to get himself down anyway, and screw Rin’s threats. But....

Just this once, he’d let Rin coddle him.

He really did fucking _hurt._

He wasn’t sure exactly how long it took Rin to get back—he was drifting a little when Rin called his name. Rin sprang back up onto the roof, his weird, two-tailed cat riding his shoulder. “We’re all set,” he announced, giving Ryuuji the victory-sign, then glanced at the cat. “Okay, Kuro, let’s do it!”

The cat leaped from his shoulder. There was a _fwoom_ of displaced air, and before Ryuuji could blink a cat the size of a truck was standing on the narrow walkway.

“Gah! That’s your familiar’s true form?” He’d never really believed Rin’s claims about the creature. Somehow Rin managed to beam and smirk at the same time. The cat shifted forward, drawing closer to Ryuuji, its mouth opening wider and wider, giving him a much too close view of teeth like the world’s largest needles and a bottomless black gullet. He recoiled in panic. “ _Ack!_ ”

“No, Kuro! Don’t pick him up!” Jumping forward, Rin pushed the cat’s muzzle aside. “We’re going to ride down on your back.” They were going to do _what,_ now? The cat looked almost as dubious about this as Ryuuji felt; it turned to stare at Rin with those enormous, lamp-like eyes, each one bigger than Rin’s whole head. Rin nodded. “Yeah! You’re strong, this’ll be no problem.” With a twitch of its tails that seemed almost like a shrug, the cat pivoted to perch sideways on the walkway, presenting its shoulder to the roof. Rin slid onto its back, then turned, extending one hand to Ryuuji with a tremendous grin. “C’mon!”

“You are completely insane.” Hesitantly Ryuuji edged along the roof and stepped across the gap. He could feel the cat’s muscles bunch underneath him as he settled in behind Rin, adjusting its balance at the extra weight.

“Hold on!” Rin said cheerfully.

“To what?” Ryuuji muttered under his breath. Rin grabbed Ryuuji’s arm and dragged it around his own waist, then leaned forward, slapping the cat’s shoulder lightly.

“Let’s go!”

The cat crouched, and then sprang in one enormous bound, straight out into nothingness as Rin whooped with delight—like flying, the wind whipping past them, except for the part about having no wings and gravity already beginning to kick in, turning that leap into a rapidly descending arc toward the ground.

“ _Whoa!_ ”

“Uh—gently, Kuro!”

 

 

 

It had been a wild ride, even after that first teeth-jarring drop, galloping across the campus rooftops, scattering occasional loose shingles in their wake. Ryuuji would never admit it to Rin, but even the cat’s soft-footed strides had been kind of hard on him. Cats and their flexible spines weren’t exactly made for riding. He wouldn’t take it back, though, not the discomfort, not the sheer, exhilarating craziness of it. He snorted wryly to himself as he slid down the cat’s side to the roof of his dorm, Rin’s hands catching his briefly as he landed, supporting him, and just as quickly releasing him as he found his feet.

Only Rin....

He stepped away to a safe distance as the cat craned its neck and began industriously licking its shoulder, smoothing its rumpled fur. Rin reached up to scratch at the spot, and the cat curled around and down to bump its enormous head against him with a booming purr. Ryuuji chuckled in spite of himself. “Heh. Konekomaru should see this.” He wasn’t sure whether Konekomaru would suffer an ecstatic overload of _Kitty!_ or pass out in stark terror.

“Um....” Rin’s attention was glued to the cat as he fondled its ear, or so it seemed, but his hesitancy suggested that his thoughts were actually somewhere else. Ryuuji sighed.

“Don’t overcomplicate things, all right? Let’s just go forward and see what happens.” Ruefully he put one hand to his side. “I’m probably going to be out of commission for a few weeks anyway.”

Rin laughed a little at that. “Aw, shit.” But as he turned toward Ryuuji, his expression held a gleam of promise rather than disappointment. “Guess I’ll just have to wait.” Ryuuji returned his grin with a taut smile of his own. _Yes,_ and when that waiting was over he was going to...he didn’t even know what, but it would be _hot,_ and intense, and make up for all of the time lost with extra to spare. It was _his_ turn to get Rin up against a wall somewhere and.... The thought triggered memory, a  flash of blue fire, desire, and fear, and he sobered up quickly.

“Okumura....”

“It’s _Rin,_ dammit.”

He faltered a moment. “Rin.” The familiarity seemed to burn in his mouth, too intimate, but maybe it was right, given what he needed to say. “In the garden, after you killed that demon—“

Rin’s mouth tightened, and he looked away. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“You changed without drawing Kurikara,” Ryuuji overrode him. This wasn’t something that could be avoided or danced around. It was serious, and Rin had to face the implications of it.

Rin’s face was set in tense determination; he avoided Ryuuji’s gaze as he said, “It won’t happen again.”

“Can you really, honestly say that?” The mood between them had gone dark, but Ryuuji wasn’t about to retreat. “If it gets back to the Vatican that the sword can’t hold your power in check anymore—“

“The Vatican?” Rin looked startled, and Ryuuji fought the urge to explode and scream at him, _Yes, the_ Vatican _, the people who are ready to_ kill _you the moment you cross the line_ —even Rin couldn’t be that oblivious, could he? But whatever he’d been thinking of, whatever it was that had put him on guard, it clearly hadn’t been that. The flicker of surprise passed, and Rin sneered, “I don’t give a damn about the Vatican. They can kiss my ass!”

“You’re going to be _working_ for them, moron, if they don’t execute you first.” Ryuuji blew out his breath in frustration. “Just...watch out. All right? _Control_ it.”

“Yeah.” And Rin’s smile was strangely wistful, some mysterious emotion drifting just beneath the surface like the shadows of leaves floating on still water. “I know why it happened. I just...I got pushed too far. Like you said, I gotta control it. I can do it. Because I _have_ to.” He looked up, suddenly intent. “Bon...you watch out too, okay?”

“I’m not the one with a death sentence hanging over me,” Ryuuji grumped. Rin made no sense, but then Rin rarely ever made sense. The cat chose that moment to fwoosh back to normal size and jump up to drape itself over the top of Rin’s head, as if to say, _It’s my turn for a ride!_ Ryuuji turned toward the stairs, waving a hand at Rin in dismissal. “Go on, get out of here already.”

“H-Hey!” He glanced back over his shoulder to see Rin angrily pointing at his own mouth. “After all that, don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

“Hmph. I’m not going to kiss you with a _cat_ on your head.” Ryuuji opened the door to the stairwell and started down the steps, leaving Rin spluttering with indignation in his wake. He pulled the door closed behind himself, then paused to smile.

_Later for that, yeah? Although still not with the cat._

_Okumura...no, Rin...._

_You’re such a ridiculous idiot._

_His_ idiot, though. The idea was amazing and unsettling, gratifying and appalling, all at once. And the thought occurred to him then, out of nowhere—

If he could train his mind so that not even Rin could rattle him, then no force on earth or in Gehenna could break his concentration.

The challenge gave him new energy; with a fierce grin, he started forward once more.

_We push each other; we make each other stronger._

_So bring it on, you!_

 

He gives strength to the weary  
and increases the power of the weak.  
Even youths grow tired and weary,  
and young men stumble and fall;  
but those who hope in the Lord  
will renew their strength.  
They will soar on wings like eagles;  
they will run and not grow weary,  
they will walk and not be faint.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the point in the manga's Kyoto arc when Rin and Bon take a ride on Kuro's back. But of course, you _knew_ the two of them were going to have to ride the cat eventually. Thank you, Katou-san, for thinking of your fangirls. (Also, I will never stop laughing at "Suguro-hime.")


End file.
